


Leap of Faith

by mogwai_do



Series: Confessions and Absolutions [3]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Episode: The Fifth Man, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 16:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mogwai_do/pseuds/mogwai_do
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel makes a leap of faith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leap of Faith

About a year ago now I swore I never wanted a repeat of that awful day when Jack and Teal'c were trapped on a sub swarming with Replicators and I was powerless to help them. I got my wish; this time was so much worse. This time Jack was all alone with an unknown alien on an isolated planet swarming with Jaffa. Even worse, it was our own friends who wouldn't let us help him. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, if Simmons hadn't been there to take my mind off it I think I might have gone completely nuts.

The only good thing to come out of this whole fiasco is that Simmons has finally crawled out of his hole and we now have a name and a face to blame for the idiotic directives we've been given. I used to think Maybourne was slime, but at least his heart was sort of in the right place. We were diametrically opposed in methods, but our goals were the same and he's helped us out more than once since. I think Jack even likes him now in some strange way - even convicted of treason Maybourne has stuck to his guns. Simmons though... I don't think he even knows what a heart is. Simmons is the reason my next research project is going to be in the efficacy of voodoo. The man is a purely political animal; he'd shoot his own mother and sell out the planet if he thought he could gain an ounce more power. For all he thinks he holds all the cards though, his appearance has actually been a good thing for the SGC.

I'm not as knowledgeable about the vagaries of command and morale as Jack and the General, or even Sam, but I do know that prior to Simmons' arrival all the discontent that had been simmering in this pressure cooker of a base had been aimed at Jack and the General. They were the visible representatives of the nebulous Powers That Be and even if they didn't agree with the orders, they were the ones who had to carry them out and take the flak. I think, after this, people will be more than happy to pin the blame where it more properly belongs - with Simmons and the NID. With any luck it should make things a bit easier - nothing brings people together like a common enemy. For too many of the base-bound scientists the Goa'uld are too distant a threat, incomprehensible to them because they've never seen what the Goa'uld can do. Petty, small-minded bureaucrats only out for their own gain are very familiar territory however and that's something Jack could never be accused of being even on his worst day.

Despite not falling into the obvious trap, our friendship still suffered badly from the whole situation. Jack and I have both been guilty of taking our frustrations out on each other. We've come to depend on each other so much that we're the first ones we turn to - and as private as we both are - we're the last too. If we can't talk to each other we talk to no-one and without that outlet we lock down so tight no-one can get to us.

Shit! I almost lost him today.

I have to put the coffee cup down I'm shaking so badly. Reaction is finally setting in and I sink to the kitchen floor, pull my knees up and rest my forehead against them. I nearly lost him.

I thought I had a handle on this, but I think I've been fooling myself - for a supposed genius I'm rather too good at that. Jack's good for me that way; he's always seen my blind spots and never been afraid to point them out, just as I see his. I challenge his ignorance, he challenges my rosy view, it's not as simple as that, but... The balance I've been able to find in recent months is no credit to me, I owe it all to an unexpected visit from Lou Ferretti when the rest of SG-1 were on Juna.

It was something I never expected; not the visitor, not the reason for the visit, and certainly not the content. Once I'd got over the panic that someone had been able to piece together my feelings, it actually warmed me to know that someone outside of SG-1 cared enough to try to help. I'd always thought of Lou as a friend, but I guess I never really thought he saw me as one too. It was a little unnerving that he knew my feelings, but he seemed okay with it and I took comfort from the fact that there really aren't that many people who know me well enough to see what he did. Except Jack... Jack knows me better than I know myself sometimes. He's been my closest friend for years, the closest friend I've _ever_ had. Even before I realised I'd fallen in love with him, the thought of losing Jack's friendship, of losing him, terrified me. I love him too much to lose him and I was so afraid that he'd see my desire and reject me that I pushed him away myself.

After Lou told me about Charlie Kawalsky that terror eased. I berated myself quite thoroughly for ever thinking that Jack might be homophobic. Quite aside from the fact it's a very unflattering assessment of a friend, I realised that while there are any number of reasons why Jack might be - military, wife and child, and so on - I'd forgotten to take into account the basic fact that he's Jack and he loves confounding other people's expectations of him. It was easier for me to allow Jack's friendship then because although I was still scared of telling him, the thought of him working it out for himself wasn't quite so bad. I realised almost too late that our distancing was pulling the fabric of SG-1 apart and that was something for which I would never have forgiven myself. Lou's timing was exceptional because when Jack came back from Juna he needed the friend I was finally able to be again. I think with my new found sense of balance and perspective the mission to Vorash could have been our best in months if it hadn't gone so spectacularly pear-shaped. Now I've hit a new snag. I've just realised what I was probably most afraid of all along, masked by the fear of rejection - what if I... lose Jack and I never told him.

It's an absolutely terrifying possibility. God knows each and every one of us has died at least once and we've had more narrow escapes than I care to think about. I can't risk him never knowing, I don't know why it should be so but it's true. The very thought of it freezes my heart in my chest. Contrary to popular belief, I do learn from my mistakes eventually. I loved Sha're with everything I was and everything I had; we had a year together and it wasn't enough, if we'd had a hundred years it wouldn't have been enough. If it hadn't been for Jack I'm not sure I ever would have recovered from her death, but I can think of her now and the memories comfort me. I can be grateful for the time we had and that she knew I still loved her despite what was done to her and it comforted her during Ammonet's possession.

If something had happened to Jack today, if he wasn't as good as he is, if he hadn't befriended Tyler the way he did... And I wish I knew how Jack manages to connect so easily with the truly alien aliens, far better than he does with the transplanted human populations. I guess it's just another Jack-thing. But if something had happened today... I would have had five years of Jack as my best friend and two and a half years of stolen glimpses and forbidden dreams. I would never know what it feels like to have him accept even this darkest secret I've kept from him. Hell, if we're talking flights of fancy I would never know what his kiss feels like, if the touch that conveys friendship with such ease and eloquence can convey love the same way. Most importantly of all though, he would never know how much I value his friendship, how much I love him. He would never know that we didn't just abandon him and that wouldn't be enough, would never be enough.

At least with Sha're I have the comfort of knowing we made the most of our time together, maybe that was just because we were still in the Honeymoon phase, but I don't think so. I know I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I lost him and I had to face the knowledge of all that time wasted... I'd never forgive myself. In fact I'm not sure how I can justify it now, even knowing Jack is home safe. I've never thought myself a coward, but I may have to accept it as truth if I can't do something about this. I've always needed to know, why I've ignored that here, why I've failed this most crucial test I don't know. If Jack had died... not knowing would have eaten me alive in a way Sha're's death never did. I have to tell him.

I need his unconditional support; I always used to think I had it, but keeping quiet about my dirty little secret has undermined my own certainty of it - I can't believe I deserve it anymore. Lou had no reason to lie to me and every reason to keep silent, but he told me Jack never rejected Kawalsky and I have no reason to believe Jack would reject me. I can do this, I can tell him, I can.

I realise with a shiver that my kitchen floor is cold and my ass is numb after however long I've just spent sitting on the hard tiles. I stir myself and finally finish making my coffee, hoping the warmth and the caffeine will strengthen my resolve. A quick look at my clock tells me Jack is probably watching a hockey game right now and I want... need his undivided attention for this. It only takes ten minutes to get from my place to his, so I've got time for a quick shower and change first. I showered before I left the base, but after my reaction here I want another one. Jack can be very sensitive to mood and atmosphere, to me, and I don't want to go into this with both of us knowing how terrified I am. Plus some nice clothes couldn't hurt... unless he thinks I'm trying to hit on him. Crap. Swap the shirt for an old sweater; I'm hoping my choice won't make him think I'm not taking this seriously, but on the other hand, they're comfort clothes and he knows that. I shake my head as I step into the shower, as Jack is fond of telling me - I'm overthinking this.

I'll pick up some Chinese and go round for the end of the game. I'm not sure how I'm going to broach the subject, if I'm lucky maybe our conversational shorthand will kick in and we'll get through the whole confession and consequences in about three words. I'm a linguist and I still don't know how we do that, but we've been doing it almost since day one and it's a strangely comforting habit.

Okay, so I confess to Jack that I'm bisexual and then what? I have to tell him I love him, that's the whole point, but how? Do I try to be casual about it? I know Jack's not fond of the touchy-feely stuff. Or do I break down in horrendously humiliating fashion and sob the unbelievable truth into his shoulder? Crap. I'm so not good at this, linguist or no. I mean it's never been an issue before, not with Sha're, and Sarah chased me... What the hell am I going to do? I think I'd better start by taking a few deep breaths while I put the key in the ignition otherwise I'm going to crash before I even make it out of the garage. Concentrate on driving - I can do that, I'm famous for my single-mindedness after all...

*****

I pull up outside Jack's house and I'm surprised to see all the lights are off. God I'm stupid sometimes. Jack spent three days without sleep on an alien planet full of Jaffa; hockey or no, he'll have gone straight to bed for some much needed rest. He needs the sleep and I don't want to wake him. I look at the cooling bag of Chinese on my passenger seat and then back to the darkened house. I can't see his truck anywhere. Of course, he was that tired Janet might have insisted he get a driver, or Sam could have dropped him off... or he might not have made it home at all. That last thought decides me and I'm out of the car, Chinese in one hand, digging in my pocket for Jack's key with the other. I let myself in quietly and as I shut the door behind me I breathe a sigh of relief. Jack's home.

The house is dark and neat; there's no discarded jacket or dirty plates to tell me he's here, but I know it all the same. There's a near-tangible sense of presence even though Jack is almost certainly asleep. I have no idea how he manages to broadcast comfort and security the way he does, but this isn't the first time I've been grateful for it.

Trying to keep the noise to a minimum, I put the food on the counter and then go in search of Jack. As expected I find him in bed, fast asleep; he must really be exhausted not to have woken up when I came in even as quiet as I was. Quite without conscious thought I find myself crouching down next to the bed, studying Jack's sleeping face like I've never seen it before. I nearly lost him.

I watch, strangely detached, as my hand comes up, seemingly of its own volition, to lightly brush the silver-streaked hair. The touch accomplishes what my presence did not and Jack's eyes flutter open. I can't help but be a little surprised at the complete lack of surprise on his face. I wonder if he knew it was me even in his sleep. The thought sends a pleasant tingle down my spine and abruptly, embarrassingly, I realise my fingers are still lightly stroking his hair and I snatch my hand away.

"Danny?"

His voice is rough with sleep and I have to smile, my confession can wait for a little while, now that I know he's safe.

"Yeah, just... needed to see you." I'm a little embarrassed at the admission, but Jack doesn't seem to mind. This isn't the first time I've done this, but I have to admit it's been a long time since I last did. It stems from my parents' deaths I think and Sha're's abduction didn't help. Once Jack bulled his way into my heart, I had to be sure nothing would happen to him as it had to everyone else I cared about. By his very nature he's more likely to survive, but equally what he does is so much more dangerous. When he survives time and time again against all the odds some part of me still has difficulty believing it. Every once in a while after a bad mission I just needed to be sure, after the worst missions I usually end up staying at Jack's anyway. Jack has always taken my need for reassurance in his stride; I think it's a Charlie thing so I don't really want to ask. I don't really want to be inspiring paternal feelings in him either, but I'll take what I can get.

"Can I go back to sleep now?" His voice is grumpy, but his eyes tell a different story.

"Sure," I reply. I start to get up then hesitate, "Can I stay here tonight, Jack?" I ask. I know if I go back to my apartment, I'll lose my resolve. Jack is virtually asleep.

"Sure," he slurs, one hand reaching out to drag back the quilt on the other side of the bed. I'm absolutely stunned, but Jack's already asleep again. I didn't mean here as in here-here; I meant the spare room - honestly! I don't know if it's me or Jack to blame - probably both of us, it usually is. I'm just this side of panicking, but I really can't make myself ignore the offer. I'll take advantage of Jack's generosity to flesh out my fantasies a bit, just as he takes advantage of my complete inability to refuse him to make me sit through endless hockey games. Justification in place, however feeble, I strip faster than I've ever done before and with some trepidation I slide into bed next to Jack.

For a minute I'm too terrified to move, but then I start to relax, remembering that we've slept closer than this on missions, although there were several layers of sleeping bag between us then. I can feel the heat emanating from Jack's body, something Sam and I have been known to take shameless advantage of on a few of the colder planets we've visited. I remember Jack's dire threats should word of an SG-1 puppy pile make it back to the SGC, then trying to explain a puppy pile to Teal'c as we all huddled in a cave during a freak blizzard offworld. The familiar scent and warmth surrounding me ease the thrumming tension I've felt since we first left Jack on that planet and, tired as I am, it doesn't take me long at all to fall asleep.

*****

I wake abruptly, sure that something is wrong. I have no idea what time it is, but it must be late, or early depending on your perspective, because it's still pitch black outside. I lie there for a minute wondering what woke me when Jack stirs restlessly. Oh. Jack and I have far too much in common sometimes.

Moving carefully and making sure to stay out of the way of any fists, I reach over to Jack. He tenses, even in sleep, at the touch of my hand on his forearm. I call his name softly, repeatedly, telling him he's home, he's safe, he wasn't left behind. After a minute or two I feel the tension ease from him as he shifts back towards sleep. I must have caught it in time and I'm relieved for Jack's sake as well as my own, leave him too long and he wakes up swinging. I give his arm a final rub and on impulse press the lightest of kisses to his bare shoulder. This time I settle a little closer to Jack, hoping my proximity will be ward enough against further nightmares, we're almost touching when I drift back to sleep.

*****

I wake to sunlight and an empty bed and though I feel a surge of disappointment it's probably just as well because I'm hard as a rock. I don't know if I did it before or after Jack got up, but in my sleep I seem to have edged over to his side of the bed, my face pressed into his pillow. In Jack's bed, surrounded by his scent, the urge to jerk off is almost overwhelming, but I grit my teeth and resist. Quite aside from the all too likely possibility that Jack might interrupt me, it's a very poor way to repay his kindness. I make it to the bathroom as quickly as I can and wince at the first rush of cold water. Fortunately my erection takes the hint before it goes blue and drops off and I turn the shower up to a more humane temperature.

It's only as I begin to towel myself off that I realise I left my clothes over the chair in the bedroom. Traipsing naked to Jack's bedroom is a little too close to some of my fantasies for comfort. I eye Jack's robe hanging on the back of the door, an old Christmas present from Cassie. I've never seen him wear it and wonder if he would mind if I borrowed it. I don't think he would, but with Jack it's wise never to be too certain. My concern proves unnecessary though as I make it back to the bedroom and get dressed with no sign of Jack. I carefully hang the robe back as it was on my way downstairs.

I spot Jack through the living room windows; he's drinking coffee and looks to be enjoying the early morning sunshine. I head into the kitchen for my own cup and find one already waiting; he must have heard the shower. I take the mug and wander out onto the deck to join him. At the back of my mind I can feel my conscience prodding, but I'm not going to rush this. Jack offers me a smile in lieu of greeting and I return it easily enough, pleased just to be able to stand here with him. Jack's usually at his best first thing and though I'm not a morning person I can see why today. The air is crisp and fresh and the sunlight is golden warmth. I cast another glance in Jack's direction and smile. He looks 100 percent better than he did when we got him back yesterday. I don't doubt he's still tired, but he'll probably just have an early night again tonight rather than sleep it off in one go as Sam and I do. I'm not sure why, but even when he's ill, Jack seems incapable of not getting up in the morning. I think it's part of his soldier's need to know what's going on, but it drives Janet nuts.

He slants me a curious glance and I realise he's caught me staring. I try to hide my blush in my coffee cup, but I'm not sure how successful I am. I don't know how to start the conversation I need to have, the silence we share is too comfortable to spoil. Instead I turn to look out at the well-tended garden, another of Jack's paradoxes, but I'm too caught up in my own thoughts to really see anything.

"Deep thoughts?"

Jack's voice startles me from wherever my mind has wandered and I turn to see he's emptied his cup and the sun is climbing. I shake my head, knowing he won't push yet. Hopefully he won't have to push at all and I'll find a way to say the things I need to. He gestures towards the door with his empty mug and I nod and follow him back inside.

Cups refilled, I sit at the table and watch as Jack rummages through the fridge in search of breakfast, eventually surfacing with the Chinese. I raise an eyebrow, but don't comment; I've seen him eat stranger things for breakfast. I'm starting to tense up again and the prospect of food really doesn't appeal to me right now. My conscience prods me again as I watch Jack eat and I can feel the muscles in my neck and shoulders lock up in vehement denial. I roll my shoulders trying to ease the tension, but all it does is catch Jack's attention. He doesn't say anything as he dumps the empty carton in the trash and brings the coffee pot over to the table. At his offer of a top up I nod, but my voice is nowhere to be found.

"Is it that bad?" he asks and I give him a rather weak smile.

"I don't know - that's the problem," I reply and he nods slowly. After years of friendship Jack has become familiar with the way my mind works just I've become familiar with his; he knows I need a little longer to wrestle my problem into the right words. He'll wait for me to say something, to follow our usual pattern of conversation, but I really don't know how to start. If this were any other subject I'd be asking Jack for advice.

"Tell me about Charlie Kawalsky."

Jack raises an eyebrow in surprise then shrugs, "What do you want to know?"

"Was he gay?" Oh very subtle Daniel, pure genius. Both Jack's eyebrows shoot up this time.

"Why?" he draws the word out, admitting or denying nothing. Jack can be political when he wants to be.

I wince, "Lou told me." At Jack's expression I try to elaborate a little. "He came to see me a while ago. I think he thought it might help." I know I don't need to say any more. I know Jack has Lou keep an eye on me when he's away; I don't think it’s necessary, but it’s nice to know they care. I know too that Jack was frustrated that he couldn't seem to help me even though he tried his hardest; I should have realised sooner that not being able to help me was hurting him. I really don't know how to phrase the next bit, but I try anyway. "I've... um... I've been thinking of um... coming out. Just to my friends," I add hastily. "I don't think the Marines need any encouragement."

I quickly drop my eyes and stare into my coffee to avoid seeing Jack's expression.

"Yeah," Jack says quietly and I look up. "Charlie was gay."

I swallow nervously, "How long...?" I trail off. I know what Lou told me, but I still need to hear it from Jack.

Jack tilts his head speculatively, "Was he gay or did I know?" he inquires, but then shrugs before I can answer. "Since the Academy to both." He looks at me then and it feels like he can see right through me.

"It doesn't... didn't bother you?" I correct myself, but we both know what I really mean.

Jack meets my eyes without hesitation, "No, it doesn't bother me."

I feel something in my chest ease and I half-slump back in the chair. Despite Lou's assurance and my own logic, it's an incredible relief to hear Jack say those words and know he means them. I offer him a smile that is embarrassingly tremulous. Shit. I can feel my eyes start to sting and I stand abruptly. I guess I never really knew how much the fear of Jack's rejection had crippled me until it was gone. Before I can leave the kitchen and go compose myself in the bathroom Jack's arms wrap around me, pulling me in close. I can't help sliding my own arms around his waist, burrowing into his warmth and snuffling into his shoulder. I haven't done this since the Sarcophagus withdrawal.

We stay wrapped around each other for a few minutes, swaying slightly, before Jack gently pushes me away so he can see my face. I probably look terrible, all red-faced and puffy-eyed, but he's smiling.

"I think you should probably leave off telling the Marines for a while too."

It's not much of a joke, but it surprises a laugh out of me anyway and I bat Jack's chest in mock reproof. Then his smile softens and he reaches up to tenderly wipe a tear away. "Honestly Danny," he says softly, "whatever you are is fine by me."

I know then that he's never thought of me the way I've thought of him, but strangely it isn't so bad.

We're still a moment longer and I can almost hear Jack thinking, then he shifts to look at me. "I know you loved Sha're, so if you're gay now does that mean you have a boyfriend?"

His tone is teasing, but there's an undercurrent to it that I can't read. It's an awkward question, but it's an honest one. I don't mind him bringing Sha're into it; Jack is one of the few people who sees Sha're as a person. For too many people she was just a quest and not a person at all, Sam sees her that way though she'd deny it, she thinks it's all terribly, tragically romantic. It's not, it's just painful. Jack is one of the few people who understands that.

"Not as such, no," I reply eventually. I can feel Jack's eyes on me and I wonder what he's seeing.

"But you have someone in mind," his voice is softly certain, he knows me too well. "You don't need my approval, Danny," he assures me.

I know that now and it warms me immensely to know he's so accepting of me, that he can take even this in his stride, but in this instance I really do need his approval and as much as he's given I don't know if he can give me that.

"I do need it, Jack," I murmur so quietly I can barely hear myself.

Jack laughs, but I'm really not joking. "Since when?" he asks and I know he's thinking of every time we've butted heads on missions and I've gone my own way regardless. Much as he mutters about my not obeying orders, I think he likes that I challenge him, that I stick to what I believe in. We're a lot alike that way. It must be refreshing to have a sounding board unstrictured by orders. I sometimes think he uses me as an excuse to do what he knows is right. I don't mind; he can use me any way he likes if it keeps him from being court-martialled for some of the decisions I've 'talked' him into.

I don't know if it's courage or cowardice that makes me kiss him instead of finding the words. It's only a brief, chaste kiss, the tiniest taste and then I step back, all too aware of how quickly Jack tensed and how still he is now. His eyes are incredibly dark, but I'm glad I know Jack as well as I do, because I can see that the dominant emotion there is pure bewilderment.

Despite the panic making my heart race I'm not going to run away and I'm not going to apologise, Jack deserves better of me than that. I don't know whether to speak or keep silent, I'm not sure which would help him most. Instead I just watch as Jack retraces our conversational steps and all the things left unsaid. I know how quick he really is so I'm not surprised to see the realisation of the truth in his eyes, see him mentally tracing my feelings all the way back to their origins and I don't mind what I would otherwise consider an invasion of privacy. I can see too his... confusion at the conclusions he reaches. He knows I love him, he just can't understand why.

Every time I come up against this it makes me _ache_ to see that outside of his military value Jack really has as big, if not bigger, self-worth issues than me. I at least had everyone telling me how intelligent I was; Jack's not stupid, but he was never singled out the way I was for good or ill. Sometimes he seems like two different people; the loud, confident, sarcastic Colonel and the private, intelligent, sensitive man he lets so few people see and I wonder what made him so. He doesn't like the touchy-feely stuff not because he's macho military, but because he can't help but be honest with it and that leaves him too exposed for comfort. He knows how much it hurts so he won't ever mess with anyone's heart, half the Zatarc problem was because he had to be honest, but he couldn't bring himself to hurt and humiliate Sam like that. It's a comforting thought in some ways - he respects me too much to offer a pity fuck so at least I know his answer will be an honest one, no matter how much it might hurt either of us. That odd vulnerability makes my heart clench; I'm gratified that I'm one of the very few people that is permitted to witness it, but at the same time it makes it really hard to resist the urge to kiss him again. The silence is starting to drag now; I don't know how to take his silence, even though I know actions are his forte, not words. I know he's not angry, but beyond that...

"Jack?" I didn't mean it to sound so... wistful, but it does the trick, snapping him out of his thoughts. He focuses on me and I'm embarrassed that those dark eyes can read me so easily, see my fear. Then Jack is moving and it's far more elegant and articulate than words could ever be. For all the languages I speak, I envy Jack his facility with touch, that ability has occupied too many of my dreams for me to be unaffected now as he reaches out, callused fingers tracing my cheek and jaw with the gentlest of touches. I really don't know what to make of the expression in his eyes, but I'm almost too scared to hope - almost. Jack leans in and I'm sure my heart stops as I forget to breathe. Jack's kiss is as chaste as mine was, hesitant, which is something he rarely is, like he can't believe I could really want him and he's been burned too badly to ask. I know all about being burned too and I won't make him ask.

I follow him when he starts to pull away, keeping it slow and gentle despite the way my heart is pounding. Daringly I touch my tongue to his lips, asking admission but not pushing. There's another slight hesitation, but he surprises me by opening up, inviting me in. There's no way I could ever refuse, but I'm careful as I sample the interior of his mouth, touch his tongue with my own and bring it to life. I'm not entirely sure what I'm sensing from Jack now, but it's nothing so simple as fear. Only our mouths touch and all too soon for me they part. I can't help sucking on Jack's lower lip as we pull away, reluctant to lose him for even the shortest time. I'm relieved to see Jack actually looks a little more settled now, contrary to all expectations, but I have no doubt there's still a lot going on in his head. He doesn't shy away when I take his hand, holding it in both of mine as I raise it to my lips and place a kiss on each knuckle without ever taking my eyes from his. The bewilderment I saw before has become a kind of wonder; I hope he sees what I'm offering, I hope he understands. I think he does - we love the same way.

Briefly his hand tightens in mine, "Danny." Aside from my parents, Jack is the only person I've never minded using that name and I guess that should have told me something a long time ago. I'm listening, but I don't brace myself for what he might say, I know it won't be bad even if it comes out wrong.

"I need to get out - think - for a bit." Jack's eyes convey what his words don't - no matter what, I'm still his best friend. This isn't about me, it's about him. I nod; he wasn't expecting this and I have to grant him time to get things in perspective. After all, I've had months to prepare for this, he's had half an hour at most. I'll wait for his answer and I'll accept his decision, he respects me too much to avoid the issue. To my surprise he smiles at me then, taking his hand from my grasp and straightening the glasses I hadn't even realised had been knocked askew.

"You can stay - wait here if you like," Jack offers with something like shyness in his tone. I nod again, strangely unable to speak at the implicit promise in his words. With the odd domesticity we've always fallen into, I gather up the dirty mugs as Jack puts on his jacket and picks up his keys. I'm running water into the sink when I hear the front door shut behind him. For all Jack has given me today I'll wait, forever if necessary, but I don't think I'll have to.

 

FIN


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